


Fix You

by frostmrajick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:33:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostmrajick/pseuds/frostmrajick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had faced monsters. Ghosts, shtrigas, wendigos. Death. The Apocalypse. None of them had scared them as badly as Castiel was now.</p><p>Castiel is depressed, and Dean doesn't know what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix You

Dean had faced monsters. Ghosts, shtrigas, wendigos. Death. The Apocalypse. None of them had scared them as badly as Castiel was now.

Castiel pretended that he was fine. He went through the motions…but Dean could tell it was just that, just him going through the motions. Sometimes, he would just stop and stare, lost in some space Dean couldn’t reach him. He remembered, reaching, in purgatory, stretching his very soul just to grasp his hand and pull him free. It was like that, only worse.

And sometimes, Dean would realize Castiel hadn’t eaten in a day, hadn’t gotten out of bed, and he would go and force him, but he would just push his food around his plate, or move from one location to another silently, not truly waking.

It wasn’t every day, but it was a good amount. It was more than enough to worry Dean.

But then, maybe it was just because he knew it was his fault. Castiel would swear up and down that it wasn’t, that he was glad to be back, or that Dean hadn’t known what was going to happen. That didn’t change a thing, though. Dean should’ve been able to do it right. Castiel had done it right when he brought Dean back, after all.

One day, he stood there, watching Castiel watching nothing—looking out the window, shoulders slumped as though too tired to even stand up straight, his arms across his chest, his eyes half-closed and staring blankly.

“Cas,” he said suddenly, frantically, “tell me what to do! Tell me how to help, how to make it better, please!”

Castiel blinked and turned to look back at him. For a heart stopping moment, Dean thought he hadn’t heard him, didn’t see him, that he was lost somewhere and Dean would never find him again, never. And then Castiel dropped his hands, held them in front of him, looked at them. He murmured softly, “I don’t know. It’s wrong,” he knew that, “but I don’t know how to fix it.”

Dean strode across the room to him and put his arms around him. Yes, it was wrong, in so many ways. Wrong, his fault, but just like Castiel, he didn’t know how to fix it.


End file.
